Helen couldn't stay in the house of Theseus, or the house of Menelaus
or the house of Priam. Theseus was a fool if he thought he would take
her by force, and Paris was a fool if he thought he could keep her for
pleasure; and Menelaus was the biggest fool of all if he expected her
to bear him children and to mind his house. They all do violence to
the divinity in her, and she vindicates it by eluding them. Her
vengeance is the vengeance of an immortal made victim to mortality.
Helen of Argos and Troy is the Dream divorced from reality.
"Yes--yes. I see." She leaned back in her chair, fascinated, while the
wonderful voice went on, covering its own offences with exquisite
resonances and overtones.
"This divorce is the cause of all the evil that can happen to men and
women. Because of it Helen becomes an instrument in the hands of
Aphrodite--Venus Genetrix--do you see? She's the marriage-breaker, the
destroyer of men. She brings war and pestilence and death. She is the
supreme illusion. But _Helen in Leuce_ is the true Helen. In Leuce,
you know, she appears as she is, in her divine form, freed from the
tyranny of perpetual incarnation. I can't explain it, but that's the
idea. Don't you see how the chorus in praise of Aphrodite breaks off
into a prayer for deliverance from her? And at the end I make Athene
bring Helen to Achilles, who was her enemy in Troy.--That's part of
the idea, too."
"And Achilles?"
"Achilles is strength, virility, indestructible _will_.
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